


Winner Names Her Prize

by roguefreyja



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 22:10:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18949633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roguefreyja/pseuds/roguefreyja
Summary: Sera is more perceptive than she realizes.





	Winner Names Her Prize

Skyhold feels empty. The Inquisitor is gone. Taken the best of them with her, but left Sera behind this time, something about rest being important. Only Sera doesn’t feel very rested—more like restless. It’s only been a few days, and she’s already sick of practicing in the training yard, bored of hanging around the tavern; she even managed a failed prank on Cassandra that was an utter disappointment, and a waste of perfectly good pudding.

She sets her bow to the side with a huff and goes to retrieve her arrows from the targets in the yard, and the one that carried too far to the left and landed in the dirt. There’s a bit of a scuffle behind her, hushed voices and the sound of heavy boots. She swears it’s Cassandra, or _was_ Cassandra, but by the time she turns around it’s only Leliana, and the armory door falling shut a few feet from her.

“She is unbearable sometimes.” Leliana sighs, and presses her fingers to the bridge of her nose briefly. Her candor makes Sera snicker—she isn’t wrong—and Leliana smiles. It’s a rare sight, and though Sera has been privileged to it before, it never fails to elicit a small thrill in her, like being let in on a really good secret. It’s not like Leliana is especially approachable, and yet, she has a way with Sera that she can only think to describe as _soft_. She’s only ever seen her like that with Josie, and once, Cassandra, but to be privileged to it herself is strangely satisfying.

“Do you want to have a go with me?” Sera waves an arrow in a vague gesture, catches a flicker of curiosity in the way Leliana looks at her. “A little fun to take your mind off it?”

“Pardon?”

“You’re good, I know. Everybody knows. I’m good too, yeah? Fancy we see who would win between us?” She waggles the arrow again, nods over her shoulder toward the targets.

“You—” Leliana blinks, recognition sweeping over her expression. “You want to challenge me?”

“Is that a problem?” Sera nearly laughs, but she bites it back. Leliana’s surprise is genuine and a little amusing, if she’s honest, but, she’s seen how others act around her. She’s probably not used to getting invited for a bit of fun—the thought suddenly doesn’t seem so funny, and Sera’s mouth twitches with a frown.

“No, no. Let’s see... three rounds on these?” Leliana points to the three targets in the middle of the yard. She pauses, considering them for a moment. When she turns back to Sera, she seems lighter than just moments before. Maybe it’s the way the sun catches her hair, bright and hot, the way it plays against the glint in her eyes when she speaks. “Winner names her prize. How is that?”

“A prize?” Sera giggles, half because the way Leliana says it sounds _suggestive,_  and half because the suggestion makes her stomach flutter with nerves. It seems unlikely, it’d be _mad_ —but she presses it anyway, just a little, just to see what happens. “Like what?”

Leliana shrugs nonchalantly, but Sera swears there’s mischief in her eyes. “Anything you like.” A cheeky little half-smile. Sera feels her cheeks prick with heat at the notion of it all, the way Leliana holds her gaze.

“Although I will need my bow.” Leliana glances over her shoulder abruptly, up at the windows of the rookery and the angle of the sun overhead, as if nothing just happened. But Sera had _felt_ that, she wasn’t just imagining what was right in front of her. Her mind drifts back to all the shared looks between them that she catalogued in her memory, the comments that _seemed_ like innuendo but which Sera had convinced herself must be otherwise, the times when she had felt Leliana’s eyes on her and only her when she came to the tavern late at night, alone—the realization is as the final pin of a lock clicking into place, undone. Maybe Leliana hasn’t been keeping tabs on her at all, at least, not in the _Lady Nightingale, Spymaster of the Inquisition_ way that she expected from her. Maybe it’s been something _much_ more personal. The idea makes her feel suddenly warm.

“Shall we meet here in two hours? You may need to practice beforehand.” Leliana deadpans with a precision that Sera finds _terribly_ attractive.

“Oh, _you’re_ —” She almost chokes on a laugh. She’s not sure she’s ever seen Leliana like this, and there’s a strange delight at playing a part in it. “Yeah, alright, I’ll just be practicing.” She draws out the word, sarcasm more than obvious. “Don’t keep me waiting, you.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

* * *

 

Three arrows left, and they’re tied. Sera’s not surprised, but she’s not sure how to angle it to win, either. Maybe she _actually_ should have practiced. She cracks her knuckles absently and narrows her eyes at the targets in front of her, as if they’re any different now than they were in the last round.

“Would you like some?” Leliana’s voice cuts through her concentration.

“What—” Sera blinks out of her own daze. Leliana holds a peach out toward her with a single, evenly shaped bite torn from the pretty ripe blush of the fruit. She raises an eyebrow in suspicion, but Leliana doesn’t falter. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“Is it working?” Leliana smiles at her, coy as ever. The peach looks juicy, even from a distance, and Sera can almost _taste_ it at the thought of taking a bite.

“Pfft.” She shifts uneasily, focuses instead on setting all her arrows upright and trying to ignore the creeping heat in her cheeks. Maybe it is distracting, but she isn’t about to admit out loud that the way Leliana takes another bite out of that fruit is suggestive—not even accounting for what happened earlier, and especially not accounting for the satisfied little sound Leliana makes when she starts chewing. Or the way she brushes her thumb just below the pout of her lower lip to catch the errant juice that lingers there. Sera tries to shake it off, to not think long on the shape of Leliana’s mouth, the imagined softness of her lips—as if it were even the first time. She scuffs her boot against the dirt, picks up her bow again with a huff. “If you need to distract me to win, go ahead, I s’pose.”

“Ah, well.” Leliana seems pleased, despite the accusation. “Perhaps you should be more careful about how loudly you share your trade secrets. Particularly _this_ one. I knew I was not alone in the sentiment, but—” She chuckles under her breath, eyes lighting up when she looks at Sera again. “Well, it seems you were right.”

Sera’s ears burn. Her cheeks too. She remembers a few nights ago, in the tavern over beer, when she was going on about peaches, _ripe_ peaches—how eating them was a lot like something _else_ that she rather enjoyed eating, before she and the Inquisitor were both snorting with laughter. That Leliana somehow overheard that is not all that surprising, but that she’s turning it back around on Sera is something else entirely. Something that makes her head feel fuzzy when she feels Leliana’s eyes on her.

“Ruffles was right about you.” She doesn’t mean to say with such admiration, to reveal her hand so blatantly, but she lets it lay. Channels her energy into her bow instead, gives herself a second to be distracted by the bite of the draw against her fingers. The arrow lands just left of center.

“Josie?” Leliana sounds surprised.

“Yeah. Said you were a proper tease. She warned me, too—something about a measuring stick, or, was it... anyway, I don’t know what you did, but she was going _on._ ” Sera draws again, finds an outlet for her nerves in that familiar motion. This time, the arrow strikes dead center. “I didn’t believe her then. Should have known you keep the fun bits hidden, too. Spymasters aren’t s’posed to be fun, right? Not supposed to be pretty, either? Only scary, I get it.”

She feels a rush of warmth after she says it, a thrill that hums in her chest. As she draws her final arrow, she glances over at Leliana. Even cloaked in the shade of the armory, she can make out that her words land with effect. The anticipation hanging between them is certain now, heavy in a way that makes her stomach twist, makes her want to keep talking—her aim falters, and the last arrow strikes a good hands-breadth away from the bullseye.

“What I mean is, it’s nice—all that. You _._ I mean, _really_ you, not just some title, yeah? And—” Sera lets out a heavy breath that verges on a giggle, rife with nervous energy. She gestures to the target instead. “Anyway, you win, Peaches.”

“I—“ Leliana looks a bit disarmed, but even that is not without grace. A flicker of something unmasked, but she doesn’t fumble long. “Well matched. Thank you.”

“Fair’s fair, right?” Sera shakes her head, almost to herself—her heart still thuds loudly in her chest, a reminder of what faltered her aim. Odds are she was a better flirt before the realization that Leliana was flirting too, before her offhand crush became something suddenly so present and palpable and _so_ devastatingly good-looking while aiming a bow.

“So, do you know what you want?” That garners a smirk from Leliana. _Winner names her prize_ , as she had put it.

“I do.” Leliana holds Sera’s eyes for a moment, as if considering her answer, considering _her_ , before she continues. “You know the parapets above the garden, yes? Meet me there this evening, just after dinner.”

* * *

 

“Ah, good, you’ve found me.” Leliana smiles, something radiant even in the dim light of the evening. She doesn’t wear a stitch of her usual armor—only a simple light top with buttons down the middle, and dark trousers tucked into her boots. It’s plain in a way that’s surprisingly flattering, lends a sort of ordinary vulnerability to her that Sera hadn’t ever noticed before.

Leliana stands to greet her, to kiss her cheek, she thinks, yet nearly misses—her lips graze the corner of Sera’s mouth instead. It’s brief, _soft_ , yet so palpably charged that Sera feels flushed when Leliana steps back to sit down.

If Leliana notices, she doesn’t let on.

“So, we’re…” Sera swallows against the feeling in her stomach—butterflies always sounded pish and frilly to her, but, it’s apt. There are a few lanterns, a quilted blanket laid on the stone where Leliana sits, and next to her a basket, too dark to see its contents other than the top of a bottle that protrudes from it. “We’re having a picnic? At night?” She can’t help but sound a bit incredulous, having regained some of her composure.

“That’s your prize?” It’s not a bad idea, but it’s not exactly anything she would have expected, either. She moves to sit across from Leliana, and stretches her legs out over the blanket.

“Of sorts.” Leliana laughs. “I wanted to do something we might both enjoy. And truthfully—” She reaches to pull the bottle from the basket—wine. “It’s been quite a while since I have been able to enjoy a proper date, if you don’t mind indulging me. I couldn’t ask for better company.”

“Me?” Sera giggles. The mere idea makes her chest fill with warmth, something soft feeling. “You put together all these nice things, and you just want me to be here? That’s not—” She shakes her head, flashes a grin. “You’ve got a funny way about you.”

“Is that a yes, then?”

“Yeah it is.” Sera takes the wine bottle from her and pulls a knife from her boot, pushes it into the cork so she can twist it out. “Hard to imagine you not getting a date, innit?”

“Hardly.” Leliana laughs, a sweet, girlish sound, but there’s a twinge of something darker there. “I suppose I have been busy.”

She retrieves two empty jam jars from the basket—sturdy enough to travel, handy enough for drinking from, and sets them down. Sera follows with wine, filling the jars halfway.

“What’s the point in staying so busy that you forget to enjoy yourself? Or… other women.” Her eyes flit up to meet Leliana’s, to gauge her response—her kittenish smirk is almost smug.

" _C’est la vie_.” Leliana lifts her glass to meet Sera’s, and the jars make a satisfying _clink_ when they touch. When she speaks again, her voice is like warm honey. “You are very good at reminding me of that, you know.”

“Oh—” Sera’s eyes linger on the curve of Leliana’s throat, the line of her collarbone just there, exposed by the top few buttons of her shirt that lay open. Her armor reveals nothing in comparison, but _this_ —Sera gulps her wine in an attempt to keep her eyes from roaming further. “What’s that?”

“Josie is always pestering me to relax, to take time—when things are dark, that is easier said than done. But I’m sure you would agree, there’s nothing quite like a charming—“ Leliana shifts, and her fingers brush Sera’s where her hand rests on the blanket. She is acutely aware of the coolness of Leliana’s skin, the slender curve of her fingers against her own, the way her heart rate has jumped madly. “—beautiful woman to remind you of the light in the simplest things. A look, a touch.”

“Forgive me if I’ve misunderstood.” Leliana leans forward, narrowing the space between them until Sera can feel her breath on her skin, can make out the faintest of freckles that spill over the bridge of her nose.

When Leliana’s lips brush against her own, her eyes flutter shut. It’s slow and impossibly soft, overwhelming. Up close, she smells of incense—not the kind the Chantry uses, but the kind sold in the alleys of Orlais, familiar, smokey, and sweet. It mingles with something heady and floral on her skin, seeps into Sera’s senses in a warm, dizzying way. They kiss again before Leliana starts to pull away, hesitates, in case she misread, Sera thinks. But Sera catches her, threads her fingers into the softness of Leliana’s hair, draws her close again.

“You haven’t.” She murmurs, and Leliana nearly moans in response, a faint sound that buzzes against Sera’s mouth. The sweet spice of wine lingers on her lips, and when their tongues meet it’s soft, shameless in a way that makes Sera sigh, sparks a familiar, persistent heat low in her belly.

Leliana kisses with the same sort of poise that inhabits everything she does. The same that Sera always found so captivating—only here, up close, it sends a thrill up her spine. There’s a sort of brazen, unhurried thoroughness to the way Leliana explores her mouth, and Sera finds herself easily following her lead. Her own hands wander, slipping from Leliana’s hair to the warm curve of her neck instead, along the crest of her hip. She lets her fingertips map the shapes that make Leliana, the places that make her breath catch, or hum soft in her throat.

She doesn’t know how long they spend like that—long enough that she feels almost lightheaded, that when they part, finally, the night air is cold against her skin. Sobering in comparison to the heat that remains between them, that simmers just under the surface of the look they share. Leliana smiles, something coy and strangely intimate that strikes Sera at her core, makes her downright blush.

“Well… _wow_.” Sera lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, nearly giggles to match the feeling in her chest.

“You know, you have the most charming dimples.” Leliana says it without pretense, a delighted observation, and Sera feels that in her chest too, warm and light.

“You’re all honey and butter, aren’t you?” Sera leans closer, nearly grinning. “Soft underneath... think I like that.”

“Oh?” Leliana’s eyes light up, the sort of reaction that can’t be tempered up close.

“We should do this again sometime, yeah?” Sera’s voice comes out barely more than a whisper, huskier than intended, but she can’t help herself. All around them the air feels heady, alive, and the way Leliana’s still absently touching her knee makes her whole body tingle.

“I would like that.” Leliana practically purrs, and Sera wonders if the tremble of excitement she feels ripple through her is palpable.

“How about now, then?” Leliana moves her hand over the top of Sera’s and lifts it, reaching up to cup Sera’s palm against her breast. The shape of her beneath Sera’s fingertips fills her hand just so, with a weight that sets her mind swimming with imaginings of what’s underneath Leliana’s clothing. Even despite the fabric between their skin, her nipple stiffens against Sera’s palm, making it very clear how this—how _she_ —effects Leliana.

“Now’s _good_.” She breathes, and finds herself leaning closer still. To her surprise, Leliana turns her head, instead presses one kiss, then another, hot across Sera’s cheek.

“Will you come to my room? Surely it’s more comfortable.“ Leliana shifts, murmurs sweetly against Sera’s ear. Her fingertips dip below the waistband of Sera’s clothing to caress her stomach, just beside the sharp line of her hipbone.

“Shit—“ Sera nearly hisses at the sensation. Leliana’s hands are soft, calloused and steady, and she makes a satisfied sound when Sera reacts, almost a chuckle under her breath.

“Just here.” Leliana sits back and nods to gesture at the door to their left, just behind Sera’s shoulder.

* * *

 

She’s not sure she notices much about Leliana’s room—it smells like her, and like the fire that crackles in the hearth, pleasingly warm compared to the air outside. She’s struck, instead, by Leliana, by the image of her as she kicks off her boots, shifts her hips so that her unbuttoned trousers slide down until they bunch at her knees, and then she kicks them off too. The firelight licks at her figure, throws shadow and light at odds across the muscle of her thighs. Sera’s eyes are drawn to where the tails of Leliana’s shirt sweep up, exposing the pale curve of her hips.

“That’s better.” Leliana seems soft here, beneath the layers of armor and shadows, soft in that unexplainable way that Sera had always felt around her. But when they kiss again, it’s anything but soft. It’s heated, eager, consuming. Leliana is taller than her, even without her boots—she’s noticed before, but it feels all the more apparent now, nearly naked and up close, as she tilts her chin up to lick against her mouth.

Her hands skim up Leliana’s thighs, drawn to the newly bared parts of her. It’s easy to undo the rest of the buttons of Leliana’s top, to slip her hands beneath the fabric and really _feel_ her, the way her hips curve in toward her waist, the softness of her stomach that betrays the muscle beneath. She shapes her hands to the swell of Leliana’s breasts, catches one nipple between her thumb and forefinger.

“Much better.” Sera murmurs. She nips at Leliana’s lower lip, moves to her throat, testing the spot just above her collarbone first. Then along her neck, and the soft place just below her ear, and Leliana’s breath hitches beautifully. She’s reactive in a way that Sera finds entirely thrilling, intoxicating.

“Give me this.” Leliana’s breath ghosts against Sera’s ear. Her hands skim beneath her top, sending a shiver down the back of her neck. She tugs the hem of the garment up hastily, and they continue in this way, a tangle of limbs and eager hands until there is little left between them but skin. The thought makes something in Sera quiver, and she presses closer against Leliana, sucks in a breath at the feel of so much skin against skin, of Leliana’s breasts against her own.

The back of her knees bump against something soft—the bed—and she stumbles before Leliana presses her onto it. Presses her weight against Sera’s hips, and the warmth of her naked thighs against Sera’s own. It floods Sera’s senses all at once, pricks goosebumps along her forearms. But it’s the slow, trickling recognition that Leliana had some semblance of a plan all along—not just to lead her to her bed right here and now, but to spend the evening with her, with wine, to kiss her, to perhaps _take her to bed_ —that makes her body flush hot _._

“Kind of bossy, hmm?” Sera teases, diverts her mind from the cascade of thoughts, from the insistent heat between her legs. Leliana pauses at that, raises an eyebrow.

“I am not.” Despite the scowl that tugs at the corner of Leliana’s mouth, she looks amused.

“Oh no, it’s a compliment, yeah? I mean, it’s cute, really. I’d take orders from you better than anyone...” Sera trails off, mind wandering. She’s not one to take to being bossed around, but there’s something about Leliana, and that honey warm voice of hers, in _this_ context—she gives a shake of her head, blinks back into focus. Leliana hovers over her still, all curves and shadow in the low light. She looks almost smug.

“Come here, then.” She takes Sera’s hands in her own, tugs her forward.

“You’re still doing it.” Sera quips.

“Mmn,” Leliana hums, shakes her head. She pulls Sera on top of her when she sinks back against the bed, shifts her hips up to meet Sera’s thigh as their bodies find how they fit together. “I won’t tell you what to do. I am sure you are... _quite_ capable.”

Sera sputters. Leliana is _warm_ against her thigh, and the way she presses her hips to her ghosts wetness over her skin. Her cheeks flush.

“Do I make you nervous?” Leliana’s still smiling, that amused little expression that by now feels almost familiar, comfortable.

“It’s not that.” Sera chuckles, almost under her breath, swallows thickly. “It’s... you’re gorgeous, and _wet_ and...” Her eyes flick downward, following the curve of Leliana’s breasts, the flushed perk of her nipples. She follows the same path with her mouth seconds later, and when she licks against Leliana, teases her lips over her nipple and draws her into her mouth, Leliana hums in satisfaction and drags her fingernails up the shape of Sera’s spine. She plays her tongue over the stiff point and Leliana rolls her hips upward, presses herself into Sera with a shuddering sigh.

Sera drags her mouth over the space between Leliana’s breasts, trails a zigzag of wet kisses along the underside of the other. She covers Leliana’s nipple with her mouth, laves her tongue against her, and the sound Leliana makes then is enough to make her ache—as if she wasn't already.

“Sensitive?” Sera smirks, catching Leliana’s eyes.

“Mm, I—” Leliana buries her fingers in Sera’s hair, arches into her when Sera’s teeth tug at her nipple. “ _Yes_.” The scrape of Leliana’s fingernails at the base of her scalp tingles all the way down the back of her neck and into her shoulders, makes her stomach flutter with a heady mix of anticipation and desire.

When she looks up and catches Leliana’s eyes, her pupils are wide, her eyelids heavy with desire. Everything feels fuzzy, electric even. She’s acutely aware of her own arousal, momentarily, as she traces her mouth over the length of Leliana’s stomach, of the ache in her clit when she licks at the hollow of Leliana’s hip and loops her arm around her thigh, splays the fingertips of her other hand over the soft curve of her stomach. She even presses her hips into the bed when she dips her head to kiss against Leliana’s inner thigh, and the pressure is _almost_ satisfying. But it doesn’t matter right now.

“Hm, _cute_.” Sera murmurs. Leliana is flushed pink here too; even more rosy than the blush that settled into her cheeks when Sera had first kissed her neck, that lingers there still. Leliana giggles, a quiet sound that borders on lewd, and threads her fingers through Sera’s hair.

Sera keeps her eyes on Leliana when she dips her head, licks against her. She laps her tongue, _slow_ , through the slick of her, traces the way her lips pout open, swollen with arousal.

“ _Oh_...” Leliana shivers, lets out a heavy breath.

“Alright?” Sera smirks, glances up.

“Yes, very. More than...” Leliana trails off, hums low in her throat when Sera’s tongue dips against her, licks the shape of her back up to her clit. She slicks her arousal through her folds like honey, kisses against her, and Leliana tangles her fingers further into Sera’s hair, presses back into the bed.

Sera can’t help the hum of appreciation, the arousal that buzzes through her at the feel of Leliana, like _this_ —sweet and tang in her mouth, slick against her chin and where her nose presses against her. She dips her head, licks down and then back up the length of Leliana’s cunt, feels the shiver that sends through her hips with a groan of her own. Leliana is _hot_ against her mouth, and her own body aches in response, throbs for attention. She circles her tongue around Leliana’s clit, envelops the swollen bud between her lips. Slides her hand up, fingertips skimming over Leliana’s stomach, to fit against the angle of her hips and hold her to her mouth.

Stretched out beneath her, Leliana practically glows—surely a trick of the firelight, but it’s no less mesmerizing. She is pale and soft, interrupted by sharper angles only at her collarbones, elbows, the lines of her hip bones, with freckles like cinnamon spilled across her shoulders. The scar that runs an angry, jagged line just beside her ribs is as pretty as it is cruel-looking, Sera thinks, and curious, though she knows better than to linger in unknown territories. Leliana flushes easily, she finds, a pretty rosebud color that has worked its way down her throat and across her chest. Sera can’t quite reach that high, so she cups her fingers over the lower half of Leliana’s breast, plays her fingertips over her nipple. She mimics the movement with her tongue—soft, teasing flutters against Leliana’s clit.

“Sera— _ah_ —” Leliana’s hips jerk, and the sound of her name, like _that,_ tickles down Sera’s spine, makes the muscles within her tighten with pleasure. It takes a moment for her to realize what has happened. Leliana’s grip in her hair loosens, and when Sera licks against her again she makes a strangled sort of whimpering sound, shifts her hips away from her.

“Did you just...” Sera pauses, smug, and presses her cheek to Leliana’s thigh to stifle her grin. Leliana is flushed and disheveled and _beautiful_.

“Come here.” Leliana hums contentedly; the lazy, cat-like grin gives her away. Sera leans into the reach of Leliana’s hands, finds herself drawn into a slow, searing kiss. Finds Leliana isn’t shy about tasting herself on Sera’s lips afterward, licking into her mouth with an eagerness that sears heat down to her belly.

“That was fast.” Sera smirks, breathless. She can’t help herself.

“Mm, you are very good at that.” Leliana murmurs, catches Sera’s eyes. She captures Sera's wrist in her fingers, and rather deftly pins Sera back against the pillows, straddles her with her knees tucked astride Sera’s hips. Leaning over her, she kisses the inside of Sera’s wrist, drags her mouth to her palm, then shifts. She traces the line of Sera’s jaw with her thumb, wipes it across the wetness that still lingers on Sera’s chin with a smirk. “And your hands? They are pretty and capable, and, I imagine, also clever... no?”

“You’ve thought about my hands?” That earns a giggle from Sera. She reaches up toward Leliana’s hips, runs her hands down the length of her thighs and back up, fingernails grazing her skin. Leliana makes a quiet sound, a barely contained shiver at the touch, and smiles. There’s something mischievous to the way she looks at her, if not naughty, and it makes Sera’s stomach flutter.

“You were the one who picked all the locks in Haven’s chantry basement, were you not?” Leliana reaches for Sera’s hand, lifts it to graze her lips against the knuckles. “The one who helped mend clothing for the refugees at the Crossroads? Who nicked Josephine’s underthings, then hid them in my bureau?” That earns an amused smirk.

“I admit, my mind wanders.” The way Leliana looks at her makes Sera’s heart race, some heady combination of sentiment and desire that is both unnerving and exciting.

Leliana kisses the pad of Sera’s thumb, leans into the way Sera traces her finger over her lower lip. She doesn’t expect Leliana to part her lips, to feel a hint of the warm, wet of the inside of her mouth against her skin, a ticklish graze of her teeth. It’s non-committal—a tease, or testing the waters, but Sera flushes, and Leliana notices.

“ _Oh.”_ Leliana’s mouth closes around her fingers then, soft and wet and _warm_. Her lips nearly brush the last knuckles of Sera’s middle and index fingers before she draws back, slow. Drags her tongue over the sensitive pad of her fingertips, then her teeth, ever so lightly. “Andraste’s _tits_ , that’s—”

Leliana has her by the wrist, guides her now wet fingers down between them, tucking Sera’s hand between her legs. Sera’s head swims. She reaches forward instinctively and steadies her free hand at Leliana’s waist, grazes her lips against her collarbone. Leliana’s mouth brushes her ear.

“May I?” Her breath is hot against Sera’s skin, as hot as the wet that slicks Sera’s fingertips where Leliana presses them to herself. The formality feels somehow even more filthy, and Sera makes a choked sound, nods into the curve of Leliana’s shoulder.

“Yes, _please_.” The way Leliana holds her wrist renders her immobile, so Sera finds herself gripping the curve of Leliana’s ass with her other hand, steadying herself. Her breath catches when Leliana sinks against her, eagerly buries her index and middle fingers down to the last knuckle. She is wet and _hot_ , and she shudders against Sera, breathes heavy against her hair.

Leliana’s grip leaves her wrist, caresses her bicep, her shoulder, then higher, her fingertips against Sera’s jaw to tilt her chin up. She kisses Leliana, swallows the sound she makes when she pulls her wrist back, then presses forward, fingers filling her again.

Moisture tickles against her palm, slicks against her thigh when Leliana presses into her, makes her knuckles bump against herself. She moves _slow_ , rolls her hips against Sera with a deliberation that she finds mesmerizing, given her own tendency to rush her desires. She curls her fingers into Leliana, delights in the tremble that ripples through her, the quiver of muscles that follows. Leliana smiles, the faintest quirk of her lips, and hums a satisfied sound like a purr.

“My imagination was lacking, it seems.”

"Better when it’s the real thing.” Sera can’t help but snicker. Nevermind the fact that Leliana is saying she has thought about Sera, and like _this._ Nevermind that, because if Sera thinks about it too much, it makes her feel more than a little dizzy. “Daydreams don’t ask you if you want it slow, 'til you're shaking, or...” She trails off, notices the way Leliana’s cheeks flush.

“I am already.” Leliana says it with another roll of her hips, and Sera can feel the way her body trembles against her own.

She kisses her, tugs at Leliana’s lower lip with her teeth, murmurs against her mouth. “What do you want now?”

“More.” The request is barely a sigh against her lips. She slips her fingers from Leliana, adds another to tease through the slick of her. Pauses at her clit and circles it with her fingertips, slow and steady, until Leliana moans low in her throat.

“Like this?” Sera finds her cunt again and presses three fingertips into her, only just.

“Yes—“ Leliana nods once, bites at Sera’s lower lip when she kisses her, and Sera slides the full length of her fingers into her. “ _Yes_.”

Leliana is tight around her, each movement bringing a flutter of muscle that hugs her fingers.

“ _Merde_ —“ The swear is nearly a growl, and Leliana hitches her hips toward her.

Leliana’s eyelids flutter, even as Sera withdraws her fingers, so she thrusts again, and the wet sounds she is rewarded with make her grin. This time Leliana gasps and grips against Sera’s shoulder, so she does it again. And _again_.

Sera loses herself in the movement, burying her fingers with each push of their bodies together, loses herself in the wet heat of Leliana, the salt of her skin against her mouth, the way she digs her fingernails against her shoulder blades.

There’s something religious to it for her. Not in a way the Chantry would ever preach, but she _feels_ it, no matter. Wonders if Leliana feels it too. She is breathless, grips tight in Sera’s hair in a way that makes her eyes water, but she doesn’t mind.

This time when Leliana comes, it’s no surprise. Sera can feel it in the tremble of her thighs, the way the tension builds and coils within her, can hear it in the hitch of her breathing around every moan and sigh. She bares her teeth to Leliana’s throat, no matter the mark it may leave, because when she does it Leliana’s hips jerk hungrily.

“ _Oh,_ I—” Leliana’s palm smacks flat against the headboard of the bed just behind Sera’s ear, steady, just before her body goes taut—she comes _hard_ , tensing and flexing around Sera’s fingers with a ferocity that surprises her.

Sera smiles into the curve of her neck, drags the blunt of her fingernails up the shape of Leliana’s spine. She presses lingering kisses along her throat, her collarbone, coaxing out what remaining pleasure she can with her fingers. Leliana sinks against her, seeks out her lips with a satisfied hum—she kisses her like before, consuming, hot, but slower now, more measured.

When they part, Leliana slinks from Sera’s lap to flop down onto the bed with a drawn out sigh. “Mm, tell me why we didn’t do this sooner?”

“Oh, right, because _you’re_ easy to read.” Sera makes a disbelieving sound, and Leliana snickers.

Leliana skims her fingertips over the top of Sera’s thigh, through the wet that escaped and dripped onto her skin while she was straddling her lap.

“Did you not receive my notes?”

Sera just blinks at her. They rarely exchanged notes. A few times she used Leliana’s messengers to ask her for things—black market sort of things, things she knew no one else would understand.

“Delightful, even more so when warmed and wet. Curious to try with a partner.”

“You did—“ Sera feels her cheeks go hot, a flush that trickles down to her core. She once asked for toys, the adult kind, and received a tattered-looking catalogue instead. ‘ _Too personal to assume. Let me know. - L’_ was on a notecard tucked inside the front cover. The rest of the pages were littered with handwritten notes in the margins—reviews, almost, personal takes on the items, and some detailed to a degree that Sera referenced them later, alone, with just her thoughts and her bed. “You know that I used some of those to… well, _you_ —“

“I did too.” Leliana looks delighted, almost smug. “Do you enjoy morning sex?”

“What?” Sera’s barely recovered from the first question, let alone prepared for this.

“Perhaps you’d like to stay the night, and I can wake you properly in the morning? I feel I can hardly move, thanks to you.” Leliana’s wit is as quick as ever, but there’s a laziness to her manner of speaking that is new to Sera; evidence of her exhaustion, apparently. It’s cute.

It’s Sera’s turn to look smug. “Did I wear you out?”

“Quite completely.” Leliana smiles at her, and the plainness of the admission strikes Sera in a way she doesn’t expect. There’s a warmth settling in her chest, a fondness for this easy banter, the satisfying sex. “But I don’t intend to be a selfish lover.”

Sera chuckles and moves to lay beside Leliana, instinctively draping her arm over her stomach. She freezes for a moment, thinks maybe she should have asked first, but Leliana interrupts her thoughts with a happy sound, presses closer to her and reaches to lay her hand over Sera’s arm.

“I’d love to stay, yeah?”

Leliana’s smile goes wide, and she closes her eyes. “Mm, you are very cute.” She nuzzles into the space just below Sera’s jaw, presses a kiss there and murmurs against her skin. “Sweet dreams, _chérie_. I can hardly wait to taste you.”

Sera blinks her eyes open in surprise, but Leliana doesn’t stir. She shakes her head with a smirk, and hugs Leliana closer.

“Sweet dreams, Peaches.”


End file.
